Survival
by choup37
Summary: AU Spy. When a mission goes wrong, Jack is left reeling with his guilt. The Doctor steps in to try to help him.


**Survival**

* * *

He had been fleeing him all day.

Jack wouldn't look at him in the eye.

Something was very wrong with the kid, and John knew exactly what.

He had to wait until he was back at home to start his search. Jack wouldn't let him approach him at the office, but there would be no escape at their flat.

There, the Doctor could start his work.

He wasn't surprised when he opened the door to find the place in the dark. Jack would do that a lot when he would be upset. Without a word, he pushed the button, sending light in the corridor, before getting rid of his jacket. A few silent steps led him to the living room : Jack was sitting on the couch, a beer in front of him. He didn't move when John turned on the light. He also stayed silent when this latter sat next to him, looking at the unopened bottle then his boyfriend, whose gaze was lost in front of him.

_-I'm sorry._

Jack didn't say a word, nor did he make a single move showing he heard him. The Doctor knew different, though : he knew the young man had heard every of his moves long before he opened the door from their flat. He knew he had been waiting for him since hours, since he left the office slapping the door behind him, just after he nearly destroyed his office, the youngest agents fleeing frightened and the more experienced like Martha and Mickey flinching.

He knew, because ke knew him.

He was his boyfriend, after all.

That's why he knew long talks wouldn't help.

They wouldn't bring back Alonso to life.

Spy was an awful job.

How many times did he live it himself ?

He had lost the count.

_-I hate it._

John's eyebrow slowly rose at the harsh sentence, silently inviting Jack to explain it.

_-They call me the immortal, you know._

He knew, indeed. A surname earned in the fire of terrible jobs. The same way the Doctor had won quite a few names himself, most of them carrying death.

_-They say I survive everything. And that's right, I do. I learnt to. I didn't have a choice._

Jack's head snapped up, his eyes meeting John's. The Doctor's heart broke at the pain and grief he discovered in them. No matter how long they had known each other, he would never get used to that.

His own grief, he could deal with. Sometimes.

But Jack's ? Never.

Jack's eyes were supposed to be full of light. They were supposed to be laughing, looking at him with this teasing and mischevious look he wore every time they were in the same room.

But this was their life.

You didn't do a job like theirs for calm. You knew, coming in, you would lose a lot.

You just didn't realize you would lose your soul.

_-But him ? He was so young, John. And dying like that, so stupidly.._

_-This wasn't stupid. He saved you._

_-He shouldn't have ! The shot wasn't mortal, I would just have been hurt in the shoulder ! He didn't need to.._

_-What ? Put himself between you and danger ? Protecting you ? That was his job, Jack._

The Doctor's voice was soft, his tone gentle. Jack hated it. He didn't deserve it. This was his fault. His mistake. Alonso was dead because of him.

Shot in the head.

Jack didn't even have time to scream. It was already to late. The boy had died in his arms.

This was supposed to be a simple mission. Some reacon job, something to train the young agent.

The bastards weren't supposed to be there.

This was his fault.

He hadn't checked correctly.

_-Don't._

The Doctor was looking at him, his eyes stern. Jack glared back, earning himself another frown.

_-Don't do that. The self hatred. It's useless and you know it._

_-Don't come and try to tell me what to, John,_ Jack growled._ We are not at work anymore, you're not my boss._

_-No, indeed. I'm your boyfriend, it you will let me._

Jack gulped, before looking away, guilt taking over. It looked like he fucked up everything, today.

_-I'm sorry,_ he whispered, his voice quiet.

John's comforting hand went to press his shoulder. Jack closed his eyes, the touch burning.

_-I know._

Something clicked in the captain's mind. Was it the guilt, whose claws had clenched to him for hours now ? The rage and anger he felt for having being so useless ? The shock finally explosing ? One second John was talking, and the other Jack was lashing at his mouth.

He wasn't surprised when the oldest answered immediatly, his lips harsh and commanding. Jack growled, before biting him.

So much rage. So much despair.

The Doctor knew it per heart. How many times did he feel it ? How many people did he lose in this fucking job ?

People joked, saying he was an alien with multiples lifes. The truth was, he was damn experienced and knew how to get out from pretty much everything, like Jack.

Because he had lost and learnt.

You didn't survive otherwise.

Sadly, not everyone had the time to. Alonso hadn't.

Later, after the last bit of anger and self hatred had disappeared in the flames of passion, in the middle of the night, only grief and a deep sadness remained.

_-He was so young, John. But so brave._

Jack's eyes were lost in front of him, his head on the Doctor's shoulder. The couple's clothes were long forgotten on the floor, memories of the last hours.

_-They always are_, the Doctor sighed.

_-I will need to fill the papers.. Fuck, I hate that_, Jack cursed.

_-You can still ask Martha_, his boyfriend suggested, before rolling his eyes when the youngest glared at him. _What ?_

_-Seriously ?_

_-Only a suggestion._

_-She will have my head on her desk before I even start to ask, you know that ?_

_-She is a very dedicated Doctor, _John grinned, earning himself a laugh and kiss.

_-Yes she is. But you still are my favorite._

_-One would wonder why, _the Doctor teased, before growling when Jack's hand began to wander off. _Jack .._

_-Shut up,_ the captain whispered, before pushing him on the couch. _Let me feel you. I need.. I need to remember. You need to remember._

The Doctor's heart sank at that. The hardest thing when they lost an agent was not the death itself. It was terrible, but you had to move on. You had no other choice. Either you did or you couldn't take it, and you quitted. This was alright too. For those who chose to stay, however, they had to learn to live with this growing fear of lost, and the hardened heart it provoked.

The hardest thing, in their fucked up job, was to stay human.

You needed an anchor.

For them, it was each other.

They had no illusion, though. One day or another, one of them could be the next. And that day, the only thing left to the survivor would be his memories.


End file.
